Artistic Nudes
by Cleo Burton
Summary: My very first slash piece ever. Draco and Harry have fled to America The San Fernando Valley and find comfort in the arms of their enemies.
1. Chapter 1

1**Artistic Nudes**

Draco put his head in his hands and hissed as the icy splash hit his hard erection. He had had that dream again, the one where he was annoyingly infatuated with the Potter prick… in more ways than one, he may add. He had found that cold showers were a necessity in the mornings since these dreams had begun.

But this morning, it didn't go down. It stood stubbornly turgid. Draco felt very much like bashing his platinum blonde head into the side of the shower as the cold spray proceeded to give him a brain freeze. He just couldn't forget the warm fingers tracing every lean muscle on his body, the downy soft hair in his fingers, the hot wet mouth moving on his…

"NO!" Draco exclaimed aloud.

He wrenched the shower knob in the off position and shoved his painful erection into his boxers, followed by a pair of jeans. He tugged a comb through his platinum locks before pulling the sopping hair into a ponytail. He then stepped out onto the balcony overlooking the courtyard of his large apartment complex. He only lived there to escape from the wizarding world. It was mostly a Muggle habitat, but that was what it was good for. Only problem was his neighbor across the hall was a senile old man, the woman directly to his left, near his living room, had a daughter who blasted her dime-a-dozen pop CDs, and the girl to his right, near his bedroom, and her male roommate were professional dancers. It wasn't exactly quiet around there. 

His neighbor, the dancer, had told him about a dancer's position just opening, and that he might meet some nice guys while there. Oh yes, she had known about Draco's blatant homosexuality before even he did. Draco's appearance was nice; lean, long muscles without an ounce of fat, shapely limbs, a pointed face accented by blonde hair that was always in a ponytail or braid halfway down his back, and silver-blue eyes set in a perfectly angular face.

Draco glanced at the normally empty apartment, 324, one floor up, next door to the one adjacent to his. The glass door was tossed open and Three Doors Down was blasting through. An all-too-familiar dark-haired nightmare stepped, shirtless, onto the balcony with a glass of ice water. Sweat gave his muscular physique a sensual sheen. He was only wearing cut-off jeans and sneakers, adding to the roughened look.

He could have sworn that Potter caught his eye. He leaned on the balcony with a smirk and raised his hand in a friendly gesture. Before Draco could react, Maryanne, his dancer neighbor, appeared next to him and Potter was gone.

"Who was that?" she asked speculatively.

"New guy," Draco said casually. He looked at a full mug and indicated it sarcastically. "Help yourself to some coffee."

"Thanks." Maryanne said. "He seemed more than a new guy to me. Judging by your blush, you two have some history."

"Bad history," Draco said sadly, leaning on his balcony. "He hates me."

"Well, enemies make the best lovers," Maryanne joked. "Go help him move in."

With that, Maryanne was gone. Both her and Damien, her roommate, could be annoyingly perceptive. But he knew she was right. Draco walked into his bedroom and changed into his coolest and most breathable top and his favorite comfortable Doc Martens. With that, he made his was to apartment 314.

Draco raised his hand to knock nervously, but before his hand could make contact, the door swung open.

"Malfoy?" Harry asked. His normal glasses had been ditched. Had he gotten contacts?

"Hey, Potter," Draco sneered. "Since when do you live in Muggle neighborhoods?"

"Could say the same thing to you," Harry said with a plesant smile. "Come in."

The apartment was the same size as Draco's, but vastly more bohemian. It seemed the bedroom has been converted into a studio of some kind. The living room held a futon couch that converted into a double bed adjacent to a plasma TV. Puffy cushions covered the floor and a Relient K CD was playing in the very expensive looking stereo. Several boxes were left unpacked.

"Want help unpacking?" Draco asked, already hoping he would say no.

"Oh my god, seriously?" Harry breathed. "That would be the best."

Several hours of huffing and puffing ensued. Draco was far more lithe than Harry's extremely muscular frame, so he ended up going into small places when installing the bookcase. They also unpacked a lifting bench and free weights. Since when did Potter lift? During Draco's musings, he came across a box marked 'fragile.' It contained several expensive looking cameras and some framed photographs. 

Draco was impressed by the stunning landscapes, but he hid that with a snort; "Since when were you a starving artist, Potter?"

Harry blushed and took the framed photographs. He then got out a step ladder, a level, and a pencil and marked where the photos would go.

After about 45 minutes of hammering and crushing his thumb four times, Draco decided it was time for a break.

"God, no wonder. We've been at it for nearly four hours," Harry laughed. "Here, have a seat. Want a drink?" 

"What do you have cold and alcoholic?" Draco asked.

"Everything but water," Harry laughed. "How's Vodka?"

"Top Shelf or cheap stuff?" Draco enquired.

"No clue," Harry said. "I bought it while I was drunk."

"Go figure," Draco mused. "Sounds good."

After several shots of Vodka and twenty minutes of playful banter, the boys were quite relaxed on the futon, which doubled as Harry's bed.

"You never answered my question, Potter," Draco said. "When did you become a photographer?"

"What," Harry joked. "You think I should quit?"

"No, you're work is beautiful," Draco said.

"Well," Harry ran a hair through his slightly longer black hair. "It was about a year ago. I sold a photograph at an amateur show and it kind of stuck with me. I make plenty of money on my landscapes. But what I want to do is capture the beauty of the human form on camera."

"Ginny won't model for you?" Draco asked, intrigued.

"Ginny," Harry snorted under his breath in a disgusted manner. "Ginny went nuts when I told her I was quitting my ministry job to become an artist. She snapped when I told her I was…"

"You were what?" Draco asked.

"Promise you won't laugh?" Harry enquired. "Or use it against me later?"

"I am thoroughly sloshed, Potter," Draco joked. "I won't remember this conversation when I sober up tonight."

"Fine," Harry sighed. "I'm gay."

Draco's eyes shot open wide. He hadn't noticed, but Harry had gotten some bodily additions that deemed him an artist or gay, he couldn't tell. He had a tribal tattoo on the small of his back, sterling silver rings through his nipples, and a steel barbell through his tongue. Not that Draco didn't have his share of piercings. He had gotten his labret done right after Hogwarts and his penis done for his 19th birthday. Two years later, it was fully healed, but he had yet to put it to the test. He had thought about a belly button ring, but decided against it.  
"Nice bodily additions, Potter," Draco commented.

"Could said the same to you, Malfoy," Harry said, whipping out his camera. It was his cheapest digital camera. "Can I ask you a favor?"

"What?" Draco asked warily.

"Could you model for me?" Harry asked. "Umm… nude?"

"You are smashed, Potter," Draco laughed.

"Thank you for pointing out the obvious," Harry said with a smirk.

"Sure, I'll do it," Draco said, pulling on his jeans. Harry's hands stopped him.

"Allow me," he said with a smirk.

Harry's soft fingers pulled on the low riding jeans only engorged his erection from this morning further. Draco's long cock sprung from his silky boxers and Harry hitched his breath at the sight of the steel barbell right through that sensitive bit of skin just below the head. He flicked his tongue out to touch it lightly, which sent shivers down Draco's skin.

"You enjoy that?" Harry teased.

"You flatter yourself, Potter," Draco breathed in a rough voice. 

"Sit," Harry's voice was commanding and husky to the point where Draco couldn't resist.

Harry pulled a bottle of baby oil from one of the boxes, probably the bathroom supplies. He squirted a generous amount into his hands and began to rub it into Draco's quivering skin. Each lithe muscle was covered in the glistening oil. When Harry moved onto his quivering penis, Draco gasped and thrust his hips up at him.

"My, my, aren't we just so responsive today," Harry laughed. He reached his head up and bit Draco's neck, a sensitive spot just below the hollow of his throat. "That's beautiful."

The use of the word almost caused Draco to explode. Harry took the camera from the side table, wiped his hands on his shorts, and began to shoot. Draco had no idea it would feel so erotic for Harry Potter to snap nude photographs of him. His blonde ponytail spilled over his pale shoulder, his skin glistened with baby oil, and his silver-blue eyes were hungry with pure need. Finally, Harry ran out of internal memory, and his erection was enough to send him down the one-way road to Crazy Town. 

"I can't take it anymore," he cried in a husky voice as he crushed himself against Draco. "I… I need you!"

Draco groaned as he felt his ponytail pull and Harry's teeth on his neck again. Draco pulled Harry's jean shorts unceremoniously down to his ankles, while Harry pulled his sneakers and shorts off in his aroused haste. He pounced on Draco and kissed him ferociously.

Draco pulled Harry's hair, causing him to arch, putting those perfect nipple rings right in his face. He took one into his teeth and pulled. Harry cried out in ecstasy, which encouraged Draco to pull harder.

"Yes," Harry breathed. He thrust his naked hips at Draco, which caused him to cry out.

Harry bent down to Draco's quivering prick and took it into his mouth; his steel tongue ring left a cold sensation that threatened to spill Draco over the edge. Harry discreetly took a handful of baby oil and began to lubricate Draco's sensitive opening. He pushed one finger inside, causing Draco to cry out and grab Harry's downy-soft raven hair.

"Is this ok?" he asked as he slowly thrust his finger in and out.

"Please," Draco begged. "I want… I need… Oh FUCK yeah!"

Harry had added two more slender fingers as he slowly lubricated his quivering erection with baby oil. He picked Draco up while withdrawing his fingers. Draco groaned at the sudden feeling of emptiness.

Harry slammed Draco into a wall, holding him up with just his arms. Draco mentally thanked Harry for spending the last four years lifting. Harry pushed the head of his trembling cock into Draco's spasmic opening.

"You want me to come in you?" Harry asked in a husky voice in Draco's ear.

"Yes," Draco exclaimed breathily. He grabbed onto Harry's hair as he pushed the rest of the way in slowly.

"Oh, god, Draco," Harry breathed. The use of his name made Draco's stomach tingle. "It's so hot inside you. You're so FUCKING tight. Oh god. I. Think. I'm. Going. To. OH GOD!"

Draco and Harry came at the exact same time with ear splitting cries, their hot white orgasms splashing all over Draco's stomach, thighs, and buttocks. Harry laid Draco on the pristine white carpet and proceeded to lick Draco's orgasm off of him. It made Draco hard again, that feeling. He ended up spending the night at Harry's that night, not that they got much sleep.

And over Harry's fireplace is his favorite photograph—the perfect, lustful Draco Malfoy, sprawled nude over Harry's silk-sheeted futon.


	2. Chapter 2

1**Artistic Nudes 2**

Draco rolled over, expecting find a warm body, but had no such luck. He frowned lightly, but knew Harry was probably already in the dark room. Draco had been spending a lot more time at Harry's apartment since that first day Harry moved in. He had never shown Harry his place. He told Harry it was because the place was in a constant state of disarray and he was embarrassed. In truth, he didn't want Maryanne and Damien to meet Harry, knowing that embarrassing chaos would ensue.

Draco wrapped himself in a button down shirt and his boxers before padding lightly to the bedroom that had been converted into a darkroom. He had a kink in his neck from sleeping on the futon in the living room, and he was going to make sure Harry repaid him. Then again, if he brought it up, then Harry would probably counter that they could always stay at Draco's place, if the futon bothered him.

Dating an exercise freak artist took its toll on Draco. He often found himself sitting up late, by himself, waiting for Harry to come out of the darkroom, abandon his weight bench for the night, or come home from the gym. Harry suggested Draco come to the gym every once in a while with him, but Draco really had no need to. He stayed in plenty good enough shape with his job as a male dancer. Weight lifting and the other exercises Harry did would just make Draco bulk up, which he had no intention of doing.

With a flick of his Hawthorn wand, Draco made a pot of coffee and sat down to drink it, one sugar and plenty of cream. He was more addicted to coffee itself than the overwhelming need for caffeine to function. Harry had his normal either Indie or Soft Rock music playing. Today, it was Fall Out Boy, a punk band. His twin sister, Andie had probably sent it to him.

Harry came from his weight bench, gleaming with sweat as he poured himself some coffee, black, with plenty of sugar. He, unlike Draco, needed caffeine to get through the day. Harry came over and gave Draco a passionate good morning kiss.

"It would be nice to have my lover to kiss me good morning when I actually woke up," Draco said, resting his forehead against Harry's.

"Hey," Harry countered. "Instant I stop lifting, all this pretty muscle you love so much turns strait to flab!"

"Oh, you don't play fair," Draco whined. He twisted his ponytail in his fingers, a nervous habit he had developed while growing it out the summer between his fifth and sixth year.

"Working tonight?" Harry asked, almost hopefully.

"Might be," Draco speculated, running his long, slender finger on the rim of his coffee cup. "You?"  
"Eh," Harry shrugged. "Might take the night off. Can't be a tortured artist 24/7, can I? Need to be a boyfriend every once in a while."

Draco liked the word boyfriend. It sent a warm feeling rushing through him better than the coffee could hope to accomplish. Harry finished off his beverage, set the cup in the sink, and wrapped his arms around Draco, kissing him on the back of the neck. Draco turned to kiss him back. Harry cupped Draco's jaw in his thumb and forefinger. Harry soon became highly aroused and began to explore Draco's soft mouth with his warm, wet tongue. However, they were rudely interrupted by a sharp rap on the door. 

Harry groaned and went to check the peep whole; "Who is she?"

"What's she look like?" Draco asked absently.

"Olive skin, really dark hair, pretty brown eyes, teeny thing," Harry described.

"Hey! That's Maryanne!" Draco ran to the door, checked the peephole to confirm, and let the young Italian girl in.

"Geez, Drake," she exclaimed in mock anger. "Do you EVER come home anymore?"

"Why?" Draco asked sitting back at the counter and indicating an empty barstool as a seat offer.

"I've been trying to get a hold of you. One of our dancers dropped out tonight and we need you!"

"I'm sorry… I don't think I—,"

"He'll be there," Harry interrupted.

"WHAT!?" Draco exclaimed, pure horror decorating his features.

"Come on, admit it. It would be a great opportunity to get some of those erotic shots I've been trying to accomplish," Harry coaxed. "Plus, I kinda wanna see you in your element."

Draco blushed as he felt soft fingers on his cheek; "Fine. We can spend the day at my place."

Once dressed, Draco took the long way around. How long had it been since he was at his apartment? Two weeks? More? Less? No clue. But as soon as he walked into the tropical heat of his apartment, he stripped his outer layer.

"Good god!" he exclaimed, reaching for a dish towel.

"God, I know you like certain things hot, but your apartment?" Harry asked, taking off his shirt.

"This isn't my fault. My radiator turns on automatically when it gets down to so cold," Draco was holding a dishtowel, trying to turn his radiator off without being scalded. "Dammit!"

"Hey, do you keep any food around her?" Harry asked flinging himself onto the counter.

"I used to," Draco cocked one of his silver-blonde eyebrows. "Can't say what's not grown roots in the fridge, though."

"We've probably dealt with nastier things in first year Herbology," Harry said with a smirk.

After cleaning the fridge out, Draco salvaged some cold pizza, a bag of crisps (called chips in America) and two beers. 

"It isn't much," Draco said, sighing and opening his beer.

"It will do," Harry said, smirking under his hair. "So... you dance?"

"Yeah," Draco said with a fluster. "I'm surprised you didn't figure it out. I mean, where do you think I went those nights I disappeared for hours at a time."

"Well," Harry tapped his chin that had a thin layer of short stubble. "I figured you had a job, but I didn't know what kind."

"Well," Draco teased. "What kind of job usually takes place between 11:00 at night till two in the morning, causes me to leave with a shirt and return without one, and gives the fringe benefits of coming home with 200 bucks worth of tips?"

"Ok, I'm clueless," Harry said, leaning in close to Draco, causing him to flush. He brushed his lips against Draco's cheekbone. "I just don't like you dancing for girls."

"It's a living," Draco sighed, picking the meat off of his pizza.

"Aww, did you go vegan, too?" Harry teased, poking Draco in the ribs.

"No!" Draco defended. "Pizza just is fattening enough without grease-soaked toppings."

Harry kissed Draco's cheek in a loving manner. He ran his soft hands up and down Draco's smooth cheek, causing a rush of heat to go through Draco.

"Why don't we kill time until you have to go," Harry whispered in a seductive manner.

Draco answered with a little moan and dragged Harry off to the bedroom. As soon as they got to the unmade bed, Harry shoved Draco down and held his wrists tightly.

"You're mine for the next three hours, Draco," Harry said, crushing Draco's lips with his own.  
Draco gave out a little whimper as he bit down on his own lip. Harry moved away from Draco's mouth just a little too fast, leaving him craving for more of Harry's lips. Harry's bottle green eyes looked towards Draco's closet, where his very rarely worn dress clothes hung in plastic garment bags.

"You like silk ties, don't you?" Harry asked with an impish grin on his face.

"Yes," Draco breathed, a flush staining his cheeks with pink.

"Stay," Harry commanded. His voice was so authoritative, Draco didn't think to disobey.

Harry padded over to the closet, pulling two black silk ties from a hanger. He used them to tie Draco securely to the bedpost.

"Again," Harry said, nipping on Draco's earlobe lightly before quickly rushing to the kitchen. "Stay."

Draco stared at his fully clothed body. He was wearing one of Harry's old work-out t-shirts, a pair of jeans, and black silk boxers. His erection strained at his zipper painfully. Harry came back soon with a pair of sharp metal scissors and a bag of ice cubes Draco used for mixed drinks. So these were Harry's next ideas of torture for Draco.

"I have you for three hours," Harry reminded in a throaty whisper. "I'm taking my time."

Harry started with Draco's jeans. He carefully undid the button and slid the bootcut flares over his lover's ankles. He left the boxers on, much to Draco's chagrin. Harry flicked his wand at the bag of ice to keep it from melting.

Finally, Harry picked up the pair of scissors. He snipped them a few times threateningly and slid them up against Draco's skin, causing him to buck.

"My my," Harry observed as he slid them up further and took the first snip. "I think he likes it."

Harry continued to cut in frustratingly slow snips. Draco was wild with need by the time he was up to his collar. Harry sliced the sleeves and tossed the shirt off to the side. He picked up the scissors again, running the blunt end up Draco's muscular stomach. Draco bucked beneath the cool metal, never feeling anything like it in his entire life.

But Harry wasn't done. He took it painstakingly slow, sliding the flat ends over his chest and then, very carefully using the pointed, sharp blade. He added a touch of danger, causing Draco to freeze in fear of Harry's hand slipping and slicing him open. But Harry was gentle, never pushing hard enough to hurt him.

Finally, Harry tossed the scissors to the side, Draco's needy face almost driving him crazy with lust. He promised himself, however, that he would make it last. He took a large chunk of ice from the bag after he removed Draco's boxers. He started at Draco's flank and moved it up his body. He followed the cool, wet trail with his tongue. Draco's skin tingled as the steel barbell ran cool, contrasting Harry's warm tongue heavily.

"Please!" Draco begged in a throaty whisper. "Please stop."

Harry laughed a breathy laugh as he stripped himself slowly, revealing his ink black tribal that turned Draco on so much and the perfect silver nipple rings that he loved to tease. Harry stretched himself across Draco's body, rubbing his erection against Draco's, causing his own penis to leak with prejaculate. He rubbed the wetness across Draco's tight opening and then his own penis before pushing inside.

"Oh... god!" Harry breathed, arching his back in a very feline manner. 

Draco looked at the tempting little rings that were hovering just above his face. He took one into his teeth and pulled gently, causing Harry to gasp as he thrust roughly into him. He used one hand for leverage and used his other hand to take Draco's erection into his hand, twisting it and pulling it. He tipped his hips a little so he was hitting that sensitive spot inside Draco.

Draco lost it, his orgasm so intense in felt like it might rip him open. He trembled as his spasms tore through his body like a freight train. Harry felt the subtle contractions, which triggered his own orgasm. He collapsed on Draco, despite the sticky white mess in between them. 

Draco's chest heaved and his heart pounded under Harry's ear; "Harry, I have to shower. I have to be to work in an hour."

Harry sighed in contentment and defeat as he untied Draco and allowed him to shower. He collected his clothes, dressed, and brushed his longish black hair out of his green eyes. He saw a picture on the night stand– his twin sister and Draco in what looked like an intimate embrace. But he knew his sister was a lesbian and had claimed Draco as her favorite 'gay boyfriend.' Last time he checked, his sister was a pro Quidditch player when it was in season, but otherwise, she sang in a band with her life partner, Julia. Draco had apparently made an agreement with Andie, who's alias when she wasn't playing Quidditch was Lena (haha), that she would be the surrogate mother if Draco ever wanted a child.

About twenty minutes later, Draco emerged from the bathroom, his blonde hair blow-dried to platinum perfection around his face. He was wearing a clean pair of jeans, a copy of the ones he had been wearing earlier only black. He pulled a black t-shirt over his head that hugged every muscled line of his torso. It was really beautiful, Harry observed. The black was rather becoming of him. Draco put his hair into a ponytail, laced his boots, and walked to gather his bag. Harry noticed that the jeans hugged Draco's slim thighs and accented them to absolute perfection.

After a short walk, they arrived at the club where Draco danced. Harry noticed the audience was mostly men, and didn't know whether he wanted Draco dancing for girls or for guys. However, all his worries were banished when he watched his sexy boyfriend step onto a bar, grab onto a pole, and gyrate topless against it. He had no idea how erotic it could be, so he took it as a photo opportunity. The perfect opportunity came when Draco flung his head back, looking directly at Harry, his hair clinging to his sweat-soaked face. He felt himself grow hard again as he took a twenty from a guy at the bar with his teeth.

"Enjoying the view?" he heard someone whisper.

"Andie!?" Harry exclaimed, spinning.

"SHH!" Andie said, plopping onto the fluffy couch next to him. "It's Lena when Quidditch isn't in season."

"So... Lena," Harry said, crossing his ankle over his knee. "What brings you here?"

"Julia works here as a bartender on weekends. We're just getting her paycheck and then we gotta bounce." Andie reached in to give Harry a hug. "I'm sure Draco will tell you about my offer sooner than later. Love you."

With that, she left. Harry resumed to watching Draco, but he was gone. Suddenly, he felt hands pressed across his eyes; "Guess who."

"That wouldn't happen to be my sexy boyfriend, would it?" Harry joked.

"Good guess," Draco said, planting a firm kiss on Harry's lips.

"What offer, Draco?" Harry asked with a grin.

"I see you have been talking to Andie," Draco said, running a slim finger down Harry's cheek. "I'll tell you on the way home. Let's bounce."


End file.
